Kiss Me, Kill Me, Thrill Me
by writteninhaste
Summary: ON HIATUS. They say those who give life, can take it away those who heal, can kill. Who is the girl who can steal your breath with a kiss? Rated M for themes. RedXRaven romance. RedXOC friendship. Other pairings implied.
1. Chapter 1: Tiger, Tiger in the night

**Chapter 1**

X flashed into existence, on top of a dilapidated and abandoned warehouse. His mouth curled into a smile behind his mask, as he pocketed the nearly priceless diamond necklace he had taken from the Jump City Antiquities Museum. The necklace would be too hot for the black market, but he had a private investor in mind for the sale.

Chuckling as he remembered the look on Boy Blunder's face, when he had seen who the thief was, X settled himself down on the edge of the roof, one leg dangling down into oblivion, the other pulled up to his chest. His cape stirred in the slight breeze that drifted in off the water. These docks, had long ago been abandoned by the city, and the area around them had gradually degraded until it had earned the reputation for being the worst part of town. The only types of people who frequented the area, were ones X wanted no business with; they were a whole different breed of criminal – the type who stole little girls from the park because they wanted a new 'pet'.

Pushing himself to his feet, X sighed. He came here after heists, because he knew there would be no cops in the area, and none of the other residents would dream of contacting the Teen Titans. About to leave, X paused as he saw two girls come tearing out of the alley beside the building. Barefoot and dressed in clothing, which left little to the imagination, they were tripping over themselves in their haste to get away. One slowed momentarily to look over her shoulder, towards the alley but the other grabbed her arm and jerked her roughly further away. Even from this distance, X could see the fear written plainly on their faces. Their movements were quick with adrenaline but as they raced away into the darkness X could tell that sooner or later, the exhaustion which fear was holding at bay would take a hold. Shaking his head at the girl's folly for being in this part of town, he was about to leave when a muffled cry followed by undeniabley _male_ laughter reached his ears.

Despite himself, X dropped silently down the side of the building, as he neared the ground, he more easily caught the conversation that was happening in the alley.

"Come on now girly, don't be like that – all we want is to have a little fun. No need to get antsy." The man's voice was mocking, filled with lewd promises, and undisguised desire.

"And I told you _gentlemen_, that the kind of fun you're offering I'm not interested in. Besides," There was pause – X assumed for dramatic affect, "What you ugly buggers have got, I would _not _want to see, given the choice." The female voice rang out clear and cutting in the night. Scorn was evident in every word, though X noted there was an undercurrent of weariness and slight pain to the voice.

"Well now chickie, you're assuming you've got a say in the matter – what's say we take that choice away?"

X stiffened at hearing the words, knowing what they implied. Moments later, the night air was filled with the sounds of fists hitting flesh, interspersed with occasional whimpers of pain and the sickening noise of a blade sliding home. Reaching for his utility belt, he grabbed a variety of weapons. As he palmed them, part of him wondered why he was getting involved in a fight that was not his. But at the same time, he knew what would happen to the girl if he just left. Rounding the corner, he took a moment to assess the situation before launching his 'x's at three of the men. The girl he saw was fighting tooth and nail again the two that held her, but her strength was quickly failing under their blows, and both of them were built like linebackers. Two more flicks of his wrist, and the last two men went down – knocked unconscious by the electricity now working its way through their bodies. Walking over to the fallen men, he stopped only to check they still had a pulse. Straightening, he got his first good look at the girl he had saved.

She was a mess. Matted, dirty hair hung around her face. Her jeans were ripped and torn, covered in stains of god knows what, the shirt she was wearing – a man's flannel work shirt which was far too large – hung around her thin frame, falling off one shoulder. Blood was blossoming under her fingers where they were pressed to her side, seeping through the cloth to stain her skin. A cut on her shoulder oozed sluggishly and as she raised her head, X saw she had a similar cut on her cheek.

She pushed herself off the wall, managing to take one step before her legs gave way beneath her. Without thinking, X caught her before she hit the floor. The moment he touched her, a soft golden light surrounded them. X felt warm, gentle power flow through him. His breath hissed through his lips as he felt bruises (courtesy of the Teen Titans) flourish, fade, and die - the healing of weeks taking only a matter of seconds. Eyes the colour of liquid gold met his and a mouth half covered in blood, opened to speak. But before the words had even partially formed, the golden eyes rolled, lids closing and the girl he held fell forward in a dead faint.

Looking at the unconscious girl in his arms, X frowned. He was not a hero; he did not go around saving people. Nevertheless, he was not a killer either. If he left her here, she would be killed or worse. There were too many people in this neighbourhood, all too willing to take advantage of an unconscious girl. Sighing X scooped the lifeless body into his arms. If it had not been for the fact that he could see her shallow breathing, he would have thought she was already dead. Standing, he was surprised by how little she weighed – at her height, she should have weighed more. Holding her to his body with one arm, he pressed his teleportation device and disappeared from sight.

* * *

As the sunlight filtered through the curtains, the sleeping girl on the bed shifted slightly. Without opening her eyes, she became fully alert the moment consciousness returned. Instantly, she realised several things: the first was that she was asleep in a bed, and something about the scent of the sheets told her it was a man's, the second was that she was clean, and the third was that she wasn't wearing any clothes. Still feigning sleep, she lay still listening for any sound, which would indicate another's presence. Satisfied that no one was in the immediate vicinity, she slowly opened her eyes. Pushing herself up on one elbow, she scoured the room for her clothes. Gone. And not a single wardrobe in sight. Swearing mentally with language that would make a soldier blush, she swung her legs out of the bed.

Standing took more effort than she would have thought possible and for a moment, the room swam in streams of light and colour. Gritting her teeth, she pulled the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around her body – tucking it in, so it hung like a towel. The satin sheets felt luxuriously soft against her skin and for a moment, she revelled in the feel of them. Forcing herself over to the door, she pressed her ear against it. She heard nothing, but it was possible that the wood of the door was too thick for sound to penetrate. Casting her mind back over the events of the previous night, she winced. She wanted to get out of here, before her 'rescuer' asked her to repay his kindness – if he hadn't done so on his own already. Crossing her fingers, the teenage girl eased to door open, and slipped out into the hall. Turning, she closed the door softly behind her.

"Going somewhere?"

Golden eyes went wide, and a pale and slender body whipped round to face the voice. X watched in amusement, as clad in nothing but his sheet, the girl he had rescued dropped into a defensive stance. If he had not been a fighter himself, he would not have recognised it for what it was – to anyone else her posture would probably have seemed seductive (no doubt that was her intent). Most men would have been too distracted at that point, to consider that the young woman in front of them was getting ready to kick their ass.

Still refusing to relax her stance, the girl before him eyed him wearily. Now that she was not covered in layers of grime, she did not look half as fragile as she had last night. Waves of tawny hair cascaded down past her shoulders, framing her face. Her skin was pale but it lacked the sickly hue it had held in the ally. If you had simply looked at her face, you would think she was healthy, but her collarbone stood out against her skin and the muscles in her arms corded in a sickly way. Looking at her again, X saw the fine tremor that was building in her limbs. No doubt standing was using up energy she could not afford to spare. As if to confirm this suspicion, she bit her lip, sweat beginning to appear on her forehead – she was fighting to stay upright. He had to end this, or he would end up with her unconscious again.

"Do you want some clothes?" The question seemed to take the girl by surprise, straightening from her defensive stance she nodded once, clutching the sheet more tightly around her thin frame.

Reaching over to the small, hall table beside him, X picked up the clothes he had acquired for her and handed them over. She took them hesitantly, as if expecting him to grab her the moment she reached for them. Once they were safely in her possession, she relaxed, only to stagger as her world spun. Reflexively X put out a hand to stop her fall, and silently guided her back to the bedroom. Sitting her on the bed, he placed the clothes beside her.

"Get dressed slowly. If you rush you'll faint." Standing he looked at the creature huddled on his bed. What was he doing? Mentally shaking his head, he turned and left the room. Heading towards the kitchen, he gathered everything he would need to make a decent cup of coffee. He stood there watching the dark, bitter liquid drip into the pot thinking over the last 24 hours.

Senses honed over years of practice told him someone else was in the room, a second before one of his larger kitchen knives found its way to his throat. X stood still. He had re-donned the suit before going to check on his guest – he didn't want her to see his face, and wearing the mask with civilian clothes seemed even more ridiculous than wearing the suit indoors – so he figured he had some protection. Thing was, he had never tested the suit's armour against a knife blade at close range. He was contemplating various attack plans, when he felt the blade slide from his neck, and the warm presence at his back move away. He turned, to see the girl holding the knife loosely in her hand. She looked at him for a long time, before sighing and placing the knife on the kitchen counter.

"How did I get clean?"

The question took the thief by surprise but he answered all the same. "Shower." He said simply. The look he received in return said clearly that the young woman before him wanted more of an answer. "The shower has a seat ledge in it. All I had to do was prop you up and let the water do the rest." Seeing the nearly scandalised expression on her face he felt the urge to defend himself. "What? I wasn't about to let you sleep in my bed like _that_." Almost unconsciously, the girl folded her arms over her chest and sank in on herself, doing as much as possible to hide her body, "I didn't look." He said, turning back towards the coffee maker. Surprisingly enough, he hadn't – whilst most red-blooded males would have quite enjoyed being in a shower with a naked member of the opposite sex the thought had not occurred to him. It was not her body he was interested in, it was her scars. He said as much.

To his surprise, the girl smirked and gave him an innocent look. "What scars?" Raising the hem of the tank top she wore, she displayed smooth, unmarred skin, devoid of the spider's web of scars that had lacerated her abdomen and back, the night before.

X stared. The girl snorted. "In case you hadn't figured it out by now, I can heal injuries in other's and myself. Normally I wouldn't even scar, but –" she broke off, looking out of the window of his high-rise apartment. "What do you want?" her voice sounded tired, and held the tone of someone who has asked the same question a thousand times, and never yet heard an answer she likes.

X studied her for a moment, if it had been anyone else, he would have given a flippant, sarcastic reply. But something told him, that to this girl, this question held more meaning than it did to anyone else. He knew what she was asking, and he was not about to torment her by leaving her guessing as to his intentions. "Nothing."

Her head whipped round from the window to look at him. Her eyes studied his masked face as if searching for a sign. Within seconds though, the hope that had blossomed there, was over powered by suspicion and her face grew dark, "Everyone wants something. How do you want to be repaid?"

X looked at her. Her face was set, giving away none of the emotion, which had begun to permeate her voice. Shaking his head slightly, he settled his weight against the counter at his back. "If I wanted anything, it would be cash. But since you're obviously not in a position to be giving away money – we'll call it quits." Even as he heard himself say the words, he thought how unlike him it sounded. Usually he would demand payment for a service rendered – milk it for everything it was worth. But he did not really want her method of payment.

"I can get the money."

"How?" One look told him everything he needed to know. "You're a prostitute." The girl's face twitched slightly as he said the words and he winced behind the mask. He had not meant to sound so accusatory.

She nodded once, before sliding up onto one of the barstools, which stood in his kitchen. "Yes. But not in the way you mean."

"Oh?"

"You imply that I sell my body for sex. I don't. I sell my body for pain."

"Come again?" X's eyebrows rose behind his mask. He had heard of such practices, but he thought they were just rumours. Of course he knew BDSM existed, and that, that crowd could get a little twisted but something in the way she said the word, made X think that 'pain' to her, held a more significant meaning.

The girl hunched over, using a finger to trace designs in the marble worktop. "Sex is not the only thing people are willing to pay for. Drugs, alcohol, a relatively innocent good time – but all these things come pretty cheap. Anyone can afford to buy them – and even if you go top rate they're still affordable to most. But there are some men and women who will pay _vast_ sums of money to put people into excruciating pain. The more damage you can take the more valuable you are. I get paid quite well for letting people torture me for hours. Because of my," she paused searching for the word, "abilities I can take far more damage than most. Plus, at the end of it there isn't even a scar and people normally pay more to be the ones to leave the first mark." Her voice was calm and pleasant – as though she were discussing the latest weather report rather than the fact that she let people torture her on a regular basis.

Crossing his arms over his chest, X spoke. "If it pays so well, how come you look like you haven't eaten in weeks?"

The girl flinched slightly, hunching down her shoulders before straightening. "Who says I keep the money?" She looked up, locking her gaze with the two white voids which passed for eyes in X's mask. "Look. The streets may be rough, and my form of employment may be less than desirable but at least I am old enough to survive. There are kids out there barely six years old. They can't fend for themselves. The money I make ensures that at least they won't starve. I can heal their sickness and injuries so all they have to worry about is finding something to eat and a place to sleep. I figure that if I can just keep them fed, _maybe_ they wont turn to drugs or selling themselves. They are just children – they deserve more than what they've been given." Her voice was strong and clear and the golden light of her eyes was infused with determination, but behind that lay sadness. "I'll never be able to save them all. But they're just kids." There was a note of pleading to her voice when she said the last and a lone tear ran down her cheek. She brushed it away impatiently.

"How old are you?" X asked. She spoke of the other beings kids, but she couldn't be that old herself.

"17." Shit. She was still just a kid. Something in his stance must have shifted to let her know what he was thinking because she smiled sadly at him. "I'm the oldest in the trade around here."

His eyes went wide behind the mask. "The two girls I worked with last night. One had just turned 14. The other was probably a few months older." She sighed heavily and stood. "Speaking of work, I have to go. The more I work, the more I get paid. And I don't want the younger ones taking my clients."

"Surely they need the money too." He didn't quite make it a question. Sure she may seem like a good Samaritan – but everyone was the same, and just like everyone else, he was betting she was greedy.

She shook her head, scowling, wrapping her arms around her body. "You don't understand. I have handpicked my clients to be the ones I _know_ have little to no self-control. If I was anyone else, what they have done over the years would have killed me every time. The other's don't heal as quickly as I do – if they took those clients, they would die." Her hands clenched into fists, "I will not have their blood on my hands." She hissed the last words as him, her eyes narrowed into slits.

So maybe greedy was not the right word. With an exasperated sigh, she turned on her heel and marched out into the hall. She paused in the doorway looking left then right searching for the front door. Spotting it at the end of the hallway, she made to leave, only to be stopped by a gloved hand on her bicep.

Golden eyes, glared up at him. She was tall X noticed probably about 5'9" but he topped her by a good few inches. Releasing her arm, he settled his weight against the doorjamb. "You're not in a fit state to go anywhere: you're shaking, you're pupils are dilated. One more serious injury and your body may not be able to heal it." He wondered briefly, why he was so intent on stopping a stranger hurt herself. He should just let her go, so she was not his problem anymore. Who cared if she got herself killed? _But she's trying to save kids' lives._ A voice in his head whispered.

Facing him, she propped her hands on her hips. "Look if my clients are going to be there, I have to be there. And nothing short of a visit from the police and the Teen Titans is going to keep them away. And the police don't bother themselves with our part of the city."

Behind his mask, Red X smiled. "But I bet I can get the Teen Titans to pay a visit."


	2. Chapter 2: Fight or Flight

**Chapter 2**

Robin swore violently under his breath, as he chased Red X through the streets of Jump City. Peripherally, he was aware of Beast Boy, Starfire and Raven flying above him, Cyborg in the T-Car, and the hum of the R-Cycle beneath him. If he had paid more attention, he would have seen that the mixture of frustration, confusion, and determination, which was plastered over his own face, was mirrored in theirs.

The alarm had sounded in the Tower, just as the sun had started to seep from the sky. They had arrived at the site, just in time to see Red X appear, vial of the experimental drug Panthax in hand, before speeding away on a sleek black motorcycle. The Titans had shared a look of confusion as to why X would steal such a thing, but they had immediately given chase. That drug could potentially save millions of lives – it was too valuable to be lost.

Robin's scowl deepened as he thought of how X had simply run from the crime scene – without stopping to fight or to trade insults as he usually did. It was clear that the thief wanted the Titans to chase him, and the young super-hero did not like the idea that they could be walking straight into a trap. Gritting his teeth in frustration Robin increased his acceleration.

Ahead of her team-mates, Raven flew with graceful determination. Her face was its usual stoic mask, but she could feel Worry, gaining strength in Nevermore. It had not escaped her notice, that as the sun dipped further and further below the horizon, the buildings around them fell into greater stages of disrepair. They were quickly heading towards the part of town Robin had once called the 'bad-lands' and X showed no signs of stopping.

She pushed her magic further, noticing with a suppressed shudder, that they were now in the heart of the 'bad-lands'. She knew the type of 'business' that went on here, knew that no one in their right minds came here after dark – that the cops avoided the place like the plague. Death, and pain, and violence seemed to ooze from the very pores of the streets. The lingering scents of vice and sordid dealings invaded Raven's empathic senses until it took an act of will for her to keep them at bay. As X skidded the bike to a stop, Raven gathered energy to her hands, preparing for the inevitable battle. She was surprised therefore, when X launched one shot at Starfire, before turning the bike and racing away down an alley. The titans pursued, intent on catching the thief.

On and on this continued, all across the 'bad-lands' until at last, they caught X by the warehouses bordering the waterfront. Forwning, Raven realised he had ditched the motorcycle somewhere along the line and was now on foot. Slowly, X withdrew the vial of Panthax from his belt and held it up for all to see. With a quick flick of the wrist, he threw the vial of Panthax to Robin, who caught it with a look of shock on his face. Giving a mock salute, X pressed the button on his utility belt and disappeared.

Just as the last of his image vanished, Raven flung a tendril of magic out, latching onto his essence. Feeling his presence solidify on a building two streets away, Raven evaporated in a wave of black energy.

* * *

X knew, the moment the dark witch materialised behind him. Slowly, trusting her not to attack him, he turned to face her. He knew why she was here, he had seen it in her eyes when he held her gaze during the battle – she knew why he had led them to this part of the city.

Gazing into the white voids of his eyes, Raven gave the thief a knowing look. "There will be no business in the place tonight." She said, her voice quiet. "You made sure that we chased you over every inch of this place. _No one_ will come here tonight – they will be too scared. No doubt Robin will add to this, by making us search for you for several more hours." She took a step towards the masked man in front of her, "Why?" she asked, "Why make sure there was no business here, _tonight_?"

X looked down, at the girl before him, gaze flicking once over long legs and a svelt body, before meeting a pair of amethyst coloured eyes that reflected the night sky. "Because I had to." He said. Raven blinked once, but before she had a chance to question, further he had vanished. This time, she let him go.

* * *

Re-materialising in the hallway of his apartment, X tore off his mask and threw it onto the table. The weight of Raven's gaze was weighing on his mind. She should not have looked at him like that. The fact that she did meant that something had changed. That chase should have been primarily about winding Chuckles up with clearing the streets being an aside – instead it had been the other way around. Frustrated, X ran a hand roughly through his hair – he had to nip this hero-streak in the bud.

Muttering under his breath, X stalked towards his bedroom, his feet making almost no noise on the polished wood floor. Softly, so as not to make a sound, he pushed the door open. Instead of the sleeping form he expected to see, all he was greeted with was an empty bed. The sheets were immaculately made, smoothed, and settled in a way he could never achieve. Propped up against one of the pillows was an envelope labelled with a simple, elegant 'X' in flowing red ink.

Making his way over to the bed, X ripped open the envelope. Inside were five, twenty-dollar bills. Tucked around them, was a small note, written in the same flowing script as the envelope.

_This is all the money I have right now. When I have more, I will give it to you, until I have repaid my debt. Name your price._

The note was unsigned. Sighing X shoved the money into his utility belt. He had to admire her audacity, he knew for a fact she hadn't had the money on her earlier, which meant she had left and broken back into his apartment to leave it there. Not many people would have dared do that. He headed back into the hall, grabbing his mask as he passed. He had used up a lot of Xenothium tonight. '_Oh well,' _he thought

* * *

She remembered seeing groups of girls, and occasionally groups of boys, gather on street corners, only to disperse again when they saw the teenaged super-heroes approach. Many had looks of resignation or resentment on their faces, and Raven wondered if X knew what he was doing, when he cost them a night's wages.

Sighing, she tried to scour the images of scantily clad, far too skinny bodies from her mind. She was not naïve, she knew the type pf prostitution that went on in the bad-lands, worse than in the red-light district, but the Titans couldn't be everywhere. And besides, as much as she might hate it, the types of criminals whose only weapons were their bodies, were the responsibility of the police. She felt Rage, test the bars of Her cage, and with an act of will, she pushed Her down, focusing on her mantra, on the words she was saying.

* * *

Scanning the immediate area for signs of other people, X dropped quickly into the shadows. The building he stood beside was located on the outer edge of the slums, which divided the red-light district from the warehouses. The house would have been grand once, back in the days when the docks thrived with commerce. Narrow, standing three stories tall - with a basement underneath – the house cast long distorted shadows in the faint dawn light. The building looked worse now that it did at night. The broken or missing windows, the peeling paint and the chipped brick were all thrown into sharp relief by the sun's rays. The windows and door drooped like a sad face, as though begging someone to care enough to save them.

Moving towards the front of the house, X saw that whilst the glass from the windows might be missing in places, whilst the wood from the door seemed, in parts, to be almost rotted through, it would not be easy to get it. Metal grids stood behind the glass in each window – the spaces between too small to get a hand through. Behind the wood of the door, another door could be seen – this one of corrugated iron. Someone had taken pains to try to make this house safe. That alone told him he was probably in the right place.

Noiselessly, he was a thief after all, he began working the lock with his picks. He knew he could always have teleported inside, but why waste precious Xenothium on something he actually _enjoyed_ doing. The first lock opened easily, giving way under his skilful hands. The second lock however, the one which belonged to the iron door, proved trickier than he had anticipated. With a final pull, and twist, X felt the mechanisms tumble into place. He held his breath for a moment, waiting for an alarm to trip, as the lock recognised the excessive vibrations of a forced entry. He waited, but no sound came – apparently, that type of security really was too expensive. He pushed the door in, and slipped inside, making sure to stick to the shadows, which still dominated the inside of the house. Dawn might be rising outside, but its light had not yet permeated the twilight of the home. Pushing the door shut, he let the automatic lock click into place.

Listening for the sound of anyone waking, he stealthily made his way up the stairs. He briefly wondered what he was doing, tracking the strange golden eyed girl down. It wasn't like he planned on returning the money she had left him. He tried to convince himself that he was here to settle on a price – how much she still owed him – but he knew that wasn't true. He may have been a thief, but he was an honest one. He was not about to scam money from people fighting to stay alive. A nagging little voice at the back of his mind jeered that he was getting soft. He shoved it away with an irritated growl focusing instead on making it up the stairs without making a sound. He reached the first landing and looked around. He had reasoned, that anyone with that much security on the front door, was unlikely to have bedrooms on the ground floor. Suspicious people tended to avoid bedrooms on the ground floor (and he should know, he'd robbed enough of them). Frowning slightly under his mask, he surveyed the three doors leading off the hall. The more doors he opened, the higher the chances of someone else noticing he was there – he really didn't want word spreading that he had become involved in this girl's life. Too much potential for complications. Sighing, he took a step towards the nearest door, only to come up short as he felt press of a blade against his throat. He closed his eyes in resignation; this was getting repetitive.

"How did you get in here?" The words came out in an angry hiss, forced from between clenched teeth. He noticed with interest, that whilst there was anger in the voice, there was a strong undercurrent of fear. He realised in a moment, what his presence here would mean to her, to those she kept safe. Someone had violated their sanctuary. If he could do it, how many would follow? Was it still safe for them here?

"I picked the lock." Feeling her tense even more behind him, he added, "It wasn't easy – but I'm an expert thief. I doubt anyone who frequents this neighbourhood would be able to do it. You're safe." Nothing happened for a moment, then he felt the knife leave his neck, and heard her take a step down the stairs. Turning he faced her.

She was still wearing the clothes he had given her, but her hair was pulled up into a rough ponytail – as if she had done so without a mirror – and he could see the outline of a sheath on her right hip. She titled her head to look into the white voids which acted like eyes in his mask. Golden eyes searched an immovable face looking for something. He wondered what she hoped to find in a mask. Eventually she nodded, turning to walk down the stairs.

"We'll talk in the kitchen. If we stay here, we'll wake the children."

* * *

The kitchen was dim and sparse, lit only by the growing light from outside, and equipped with only the bare necessities. Walking into the room ahead of him, she took the only seat that allowed the occupant to watch both the windows and doors. X had to content himself with leaning into the corner, so as to ensure no one could sneak up on him. It had happened twice in the past two days, which in his line of work was compromising if not dangerous – he made a mental note to train more.

He watched as she placed the knife down on the table, and began to spin it idly. Light danced off the blade, rippling across the room and on the ceiling. Her eyes never moved from the spinning blade, her only movement, the occasional flick of the wrist to send the knife spinning round and round once more.

"How easy was it for you to find me?" Her voice was soft, as though she feared that even here, a floor below, she would disturb the sleeping children if she spoke too loud.

"It would have been harder if I hadn't been who I was." He did not want to tell her exactly how he found her – he would have to reveal too many names. "It wouldn't be easy for anyone else."

She huffed quietly, a quick up-down motion of her shoulders and an expulsion of breath, but she did not say anything. He spoke again, just to break the silence, "I don't want anymore money you know."

She looked up then, eyebrows raised, and a look of polite disbelief on her face. He shook his head at her cynicism. "Not everyone in this world wants to exploit you kid." He said. On a whim, he took the money she had left him from his belt and threw it onto the table. She blinked rapidly a few times, as if trying to make sense of what he had just done. A voice in his mind was asking him the same thing. What had he been thinking? Another voice reasoned, _Too late to do anything about it now._

With a mock bow in her direction, he pressed the button in the centre of his utility belt, and disappeared.

* * *

Raven stared out over the Jump City Bay, unconsciously worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. It was an unusual action for the usually stoic empath – the nervous habit, looking out of place on her normally expressionless face. Had she been aware of the action she would have stopped it immediately, but at the moment, her mind was focused on the Chaos she felt growing in the city. Conflict, change, and confusion were crowding her mind – oozing down the psychic line, which connected her to Red-X. She refused to examine her motives for maintaining the connection, reasoning that it was entirely logical to keep track of one's enemies. She studiously ignored Logic's question as to why, if this were the case, she had not informed Robin that she was aware of Red-X's location, instead choosing to focus her energies on the Chaos building on the horizon. Something was coming, something which spelt disaster for Jump City and the Teen Titans. Probing further with her mind, she wormed her way through the Chaos, searching for a sign. There in the distance, a faint light – blinking feebly, hanging in the balance between extinction and brilliance.

Pulling back into her own mind, Raven sighed. It was times like these, she wished she were a Seer, as some of the others in Azerath had been. Then, maybe, she would have a clearer idea of what lay ahead. Instead, she had only senses, a mere inkling of what _might_ come. She was so lost in her own contemplation that she did not hear Robin walk onto the roof where she sat, cross-legged, gazing at the sea. So, it was not until he came and stood beside her, that she even realised he was there.

"Something's coming. Isn't it?" His voice was quiet, but it did not lack purpose. He stood there, stock still, watching the late afternoon sun work its way towards the horizon.

"You sensed it too?" Raven asked. She would be surprised if he had, she wasn't aware Robin had any psychic abilities. But then again, who really knew the truth about 'Boy Wonder'?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Robin shake his head. "No." He said, "But I can sense you. We're connected, remember Raven? You're worried. And that's not like you."

_Au contraire_, she thought humourlessly, _I worry plenty of times, I just don't tell you about them_. It upset her slightly that even Robin forgot sometimes that she did have emotions – that her expressionless face, did not mean she lacked a heart. Rather than contradict him however, she stayed silent, watching the waves.

Eventually she spoke. "Yes, something is coming. But I can't tell you what it is, I'm not a Seer. All I know is that when it comes, it will be worse than nearly anything we've seen before."

Robin nodded once, turning to face her. Though she could not see it, his eyes were grim behind his mask. His hands clenched into fists. "Well then," he said, "whatever it is, we'd better be ready for it." With those words, he walked away.

Raven watched him go, shaking her head at his folly. _Somehow Boy Wonder,_ she thought, _I doubt it will be that easy_.


	3. Chapter 3: Questons and Answers

**A/N: Please note that this chapter does contain material which whilst not graphic in nature is certainly not PG. There references and allusions to subjects which some readers may find disturbing. **

* * *

Chapter 3 

Weak and fading sunlight poured in through a gap in the curtains, bathing a small plain room in golden light. The walls were a grubby off-white, the carpet a non-descript grey. A small bed took up one corner, but most of the usable space was taken up by a mirror, and cardboard boxes filled with clothes salvaged from more forgiving places.

In the centre of the room, a tall willowy figure eased herself into the "costume" that her clients had provided for tonight's entertainment. In a bag at her feet, lay a pair of ragged jeans and an oversized shirt. Her outfit would most likely not survive the night, and it was generally easier to get home if it was clear one was no longer working.

The outfit so graciously donated by tonight's benefactor left little to the imagination, revealing substantial inches of clear, pale, unmarred skin. Giving little thought to the tasteless nature of the apparel, its wearer busied herself with piling her locks on top of her head in a cascade of tawny waves. Careful to leave the expanse of her neck tantalisingly clear, the girl fastened the last clip in her hair.

Just as she was putting the last touches to her appearance, a knock sounded at her door, and a head poked around the woodwork. Upon seeing her fully clothed figure, the boy who had knocked, stepped further into the room. Stepping up behind the young woman, he undid and retied the lacings of her top. There was nothing sexual in the action, it was merely business. The residents of this household dealt with sex and violence to often to risk contaminating their sanctuary with it.

With a final nod, the young boy stepped back, catching his companion's gaze in the mirror. She smiled and turned to face him. No words were spoken, but he watched as golden eyes ran critically over his attire, a pale brow furrowing as she pieced together where he was most likely headed.

"The clubs again Henry?" her voice was soft, bland, not accusatory in anyway. But there was a hint of concern that comforted him. Three years her junior, it was nice to know some adults still cared.

The boy named Henry nodded, folding his arms across his chest and resting against the nearest wall. Barefoot, and naked from the waist up, his only clothing was a pair of strategically ripped black jeans. The harsh, solid colour contrasted dramatically with his pale skin, making him seem younger and more vulnerable that he truly was. Everyone here was more jaded than they seemed.

"I won't be gone long tonight, I'll be back before the girls get in, and Matt said he'd watch who they were going with, keep the more dangerous Johns away. He won't openly confront them, but he said he'd let the girls know if one was driving by so they could be otherwise engaged. He wanted to know if you'll cover him tonight since he won't be able to work if he's 'baby-sitting'?"

The girl nodded, waving her hand in a general air of consent. "Sure, tell him that's no problem. Hopefully Alex will be turn up soon and we can get back to our regular routines." Her brow furrowed in thought, her teeth biting into her lower lip as she gazed unseeingly out the window. Henry let her think, it was better that way. He knew she was worried about Alex. The young man had never come home after his last job, and whilst this was not unheard of, it was unusual. Eventually she sighed and seemed to bring herself back to reality. The sun had now slipped below the horizon and across the city, lights were beginning to wink into existence.

She bent down and lifted her bag onto her shoulder. Nodding to the younger boy once, she slipped past him and out the door. He watched from the window as she walked briskly down the street.

No one ever said goodbye here. It was too much of a jinx.

* * *

Red-X scowled beneath his mask as he waited for the security beams to halt, once more, in their dance across the vault. With patience, long cultivated from years of thievery, he watched the red lines as they once again assembled themselves into formation. Two more rotations and his way would be clear. Contrary to popular belief, the lasers did not activate at random; the pattern was merely complex. 

As he waited in the shadows, the master thief let his thoughts run over the previous days. His dreams had been plagued by two sets of eyes – one gold, one violet. The golden-eyed girl intrigued him, he admired her will to survive, but her haunting of him was borne of guilt and an incessant feeling that he owed her something. The violet eyes haunted him in an entirely different manner. He had woken, drenched in sweat, the scent of roses, cold water, and thyme filling his nostrils. His fist had been clenched as though caught in the act of caressing violet hair.

Grunting, X shook himself and forcibly evicted those thought from his mind. His reaction to the dark witch was nothing more than physical. Damn he hated biology. As the lasers settled themselves in the penultimate arrangement, X tensed, ready to spring. When the beams settled for the final time, he would have less than five seconds to make it clear across the room and into the shadow of the vault's inner doorway; as the deadly lights once again fell into controlled disorder, X shot across the room. His body twisted and turned, tumbling over the stationary lasers in his haste to reach the doorframe. He made it, just as the beams once again maintained their erratic wanderings.

Not even breathing heavily, the thief set about twisting the inner vault's lock into the right combination. He gave a satisfied smirk as he heard the tumblers fall into place. Pushing the door open, he marched swiftly across the room. There suspended in an ever-revolving force field were several cylinders of xynothium. As he retrieved the precious vials, X toyed with the idea that this was almost too easy. Moments before he had arrived at the plant, an explosion had ripped across the city, marking the escape of Plasmus from the city jail. None of the titans would be bothering him tonight. It was almost a pity.

Eying the substantial amounts of xynothium he had obtained, X decided to make an early night of it and simply teleport out of the vault. Pressing the button on his suit, he shuttered out of existence.

* * *

Raven allowed a slight scowl to mar her features as she gazed down at the sleeping form of the man who had once been Plasmus. How the Jump City Police Force kept letting him escape was beyond her. As the sleeping man was collected and taken back to his containment cell, Raven felt a minute tug on the back of her subconscious. She was about to react to it, determined to isolate its location, when Robin's voice cut across her thoughts. 

"Hey raven, we're heading out for pizza, you want to come?" The Boy Wonder's question was innocent, sincere, but he was frowning, as though aware that the sorceress's focus was not on him.

Raven shook her head, drawing her hood up to hide her face.

"No," she said, "you guys go ahead. I need to meditate." She was tempted to say that she was headed straight back to the tower, but he would see through her lie. Instead, she settled for half-truths, she fully intended to be alone and meditate, she just did not intend to do so right away.

Robin sighed and looked back to the other members of the other members of the team, before turning back to the empathy. "If you're sure –"

"I'm sure". Raven swiftly cut across Robin's words, eager to thwart any lecture before it started. She was running out of time. "I'll see you later."

The dark witch melted into ground, leaving the Boy Wonder to stand frowning at the space where she had been.

* * *

Golden eyes fluttered steadily open, in time to see a stream of heavy viscous blood, run steadily down to the floor. The drops pooled on the concrete floor in a macabre parody of Jackson Pollock's art. Pale hands made to push a battered and bleeding body up from off the floor, only to be brought short by the chains and cuffs bound tightly around two slender wrists. 

Laughter echoed menacingly in her ears as she instinctively struggled against the restraints. Forcing herself to be calm, she focused her mind on the pain in her wrists and across her chest. Soft, golden light winked into existence, only to be extinguished as with a crack, a whip made tearing contact with her back. A ragged scream tore itself from her lips as she felt flesh split and shred beneath the corded edge.

"Now, now, none of that. We want to watch you bleed." A woman's voice simpering and insincere in the darkness was joined by undeniably male laughter. She shuddered as she felt a warm, moist tongue, run across her skin; lapping at the blood that was dying there, sucking at her skin.

Forcing her mind to ignore the sensations she refused to acknowledge the tears that were beginning to slip down her cheeks. Her concentration shattered as she felt another pair of hands begin to explore her body, running across her chest and down between her thighs; another set once again began to crack the whip against her back.

* * *

Raven stepped from her portal of shadows, onto the poorly lit rooftop that stood in the midst of the 'bad lands'. The street lights flickered down below, offering a sickly illumination to the filthy streets. 

Teenagers – though some were young enough to barely merit the description – idled about on street corners, whilst well dressed men and women examined them like cattle waiting to be sold. Raven felt the bile rising in her throat as she saw adult after adult, choosing a child and leading them away. Though this was bad enough in itself, it was the looks of resentment on the other children's faces, the frustration at not having been picked themselves that made her truly sick. How could anybody want this?

"It's the only way they know how to survive."

Raven whipped around at the sound of the electronic voice. Blank eyes, in a white skull mask eyed her critically as she gazed into a hidden face. Gradually, her attention slid back to the dimly lit streets below. Looking into the haggard and jaded faces of boys and girls barely older than her own, Raven shuddered to think what had put such despair into their eyes.

"This world is very different, from the one you see from your tower." Though the computerised voice, masked his true tone, Raven thought she heard a hint of derision in X's words. She looked sharply at him, but the masked face was turned away, gazing down at the scene before them.

Deciding against replying to his comment, Raven asked the question which had been preying on her mind. "Why are you here?"

The response was instantaneous, but the masked villain did not turn to look at her. "I was waiting for you." He said, "I had a feeling you would come."

The empath's brow furrowed in confusion, "Why?"

At this question, Red X turned around, settling blank, lifeless eyes on the girl. A number of witty retorts crossed his mind, but he chose to hold them back – they could be used another time – right now, he had questions to ask.

"How much do you know about magic?"

The question startled Raven, of all the things she had been expecting him to say, this was not on the list. "A lot. There are of course those who know more about magic than I do, but none of them are in the city."

X nodded once, resisting the urge to take his mask off so he could run his hand through his hair. He was frustrated. He did know why he was so driven to find out more about the strange golden-eyed girl he'd rescued two days ago, he could not understand why his mind was plaguing him with questions and queries, and the distinct feeling that he was somehow responsible for her. That alone was ridiculous, but someone the simple knowledge of the fact did not appease his conscience.

Then there was Raven. Red X had not failed to notice the way her cloak clung to her form like a second skin. Curves normally lost beneath billows of material were now accentuated as the light breeze hugged the cloak to her body. His eyes were drawn to the gently curved lips and stubborn chin just visible amidst the shadows of the hood. He had no objection to admitting he lusted after her, the dark titan was, after all, incredibly well formed. It just bothered him that his body, if not his mind, reacted so _very_ strongly to her presence.

He realised he had been silent too long, when the girl before him cleared her throat slightly to engage his attention. Cocking his head to one side, he regarded the young super-hero intently.

"What do you know about healing magic, or the psychic ability to heal?" he asked.

Raven thought about his question for a moment before answering. "Healing magic itself is relatively common. There are spells, incantations that allow almost anyone – unless they're a mystical null – to heal minor to moderate injuries in themselves or others. Those spells generally have to be said aloud, unless the caster is incredibly strong magically. Major injuries, the ones that put the recipient closer to Death's door, would require a proficient and powerful magic user to heal them. If a lesser spell caster tried it, they would die in the attempt, the rush of magic would be too great; stronger spell caster's also run that risk."

As she spoke, X allowed all the information to sink in, using it to formulate his next question. "What about psychic ability?" he questioned.

Raven sighed. "The ability to heal injuries or disease using the mind is very rare. I know of only a few people throughout all of history who could do it on a scale larger than that of a paper cut. You have to understand that any form of psychic ability, draws on that person's own essence, their life force. Every time the person heals a wound in themselves or in another person, they sacrifice a part of themselves. The act of healing is incredibly draining for the healer. Should they try to heal too greater an injury, or too many people all at once their heart could literally explode inside their chest. The exertion would be too great for their body to maintain."

"Is there anything the owners of this ability have had in common?"

Raven nodded. "There is very little information on them, but one book – the Book of Ma'at – tells of a man in Ancient Egypt, who was reputed to have been able to heal others simply by holding their hand. He would take their hand, and healer and patient would be surrounded a soft golden light. The man was thought to be favoured by Amun-Ra, since his eyes were the colour of the sun disk itself."

X's eyes widened beneath his mask. "His eyes were gold?"

"Yes, it is a feature attributed to every historical figure reputed to have had this ability, have shared." Raven thought, that X was about to ask more, but her communicator chose that moment to go off. She looked down, startled at the intrusive noise, and when she looked up, he was gone. Flipping open her communicator, she did not bother to follow the psychic link that connected her to thief. His questions had confused her enough as it was.

* * *

As the moon started her decent in the night sky, a boy, fifteen years of age, stumbled down a dark and dirty alley way. His skin was hot with fever, dry and cracking around his eyes and mouth. His eyes were glassy, unseeing, lost to the mists of fever and delusion. Open sores on his body, oozed puss and fluid, spilling a putrid, sickly smell into the night air. Barefoot and naked, he had stripped himself of clothing in a desperate attempt to cool himself. Instead, his body simultaneously burned and froze, torn between ice and fire. Pressing his hands hard against the rough brick, the boy ignored the stinging pain as skin was scraped and peeled away from his palms. As coughs continually racked and tore through his body, his only concern was staying upright long enough to reach home. 

Home. Not even his real one, but enough of a home to make him feel safe whilst he slept. A family, one he chose for himself, or at least in part. He wanted to go home.

His vision began to grey as his coughing prevented sufficient oxygen from reaching his lungs. Giving an almighty heave, he winced as he felt coppery liquid bubble up from inside his lungs and from out his mouth. Retching the boy fell to his knees, amongst the rubbish and filth of the streets. Blood bubbled frothily from his lips, staining his chin and cheeks in the darkness. In the fetid, stinking alley, no one heard him scream.

* * *

**A/N: For any hard-core mythologists out there, I realise that 'Amun-Ra' is technically not the appropriate name for this deity, but I thought that since it is the most comercialised form of the name I would use it. As always thank you for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4: Favours

**Chapter 4**

Dawn was beginning to pour over the city, filling even the darkest corners of the streets with a pale, ethereal glow. Birds began to sing in the early light, and in the broken houses, all throughout the 'bad-lands', men, women, and children smiled to see the new day. All accept one. She sat in the shadows at the back of the warehouse, naked, clothes forgotten in a bag three feet away. On the other side of the room, chains winked and glittered in the fair dawn, mocking the tormented girl, throwing the pools of drying blood and fluid into sharp relief. She sat, scratching and rubbing at her skin, scrubbing the heel of her palm across the flesh in a desperate attempt to brush away the blood that was drying there. She looked down, and noticed the caked white stains across the inside of her thigh. A sobbing, whimper tore itself from between her lips and she desperately clasped a hand across her mouth. Someone was keening, high and thin and pitiful, and she realised it was her own voice – lost and pathetic in the shadows, her hand doing nothing to muffle the noises. Her hand dropped from her mouth and went to work scouring her skin, frantic to try and remove the evidence of the previous night's activities.

The harder she scrubbed, the worse it seemed to stick. Wounds she had neither the presence of mind nor the strength to heal, parted and bled – oozing blood and the beginnings of pus, down torn and shredded skin. She was so preoccupied with her desperate attempt to make herself clean, that she did not hear the footfalls walking towards her, did not sense his presence until his hand grabbed her wrists and held them together, halting her movement.

She screamed and shot backwards from the kneeling figure, arms and legs flailing, in an instinctive attempt at self preservation. Years of knowing where to hit and when to punch, vanished under the sheer weight of her panic. Vision clouded, greying around the edges as her lungs sucked into too much oxygen and expelled it too rapidly. Dizziness threatened to suck her under as she began to hyperventilate. She collapsed against him, sweat beading on her forehead, skin white with panic and adrenaline. Her breath came in shuddering gasps, her body trembling against his chest.

Within moments of her collapse, X felt her body go limp in his arms. Startled, he immediately searched for a pulse, heaving a sigh of relief when he found it – weak and shallow, fluttering like a caged hummingbird against her skin. Frowning, the young man surveyed the girl in his arms. Gone was the strong, resilient woman he had met before; in her place was a frightened and broken teenager, lacerations and bruises marring her body, blood still oozing sluggishly from wounds she hadn't been able to heal. Her tawny hair was sweat soaked and matted, plastered to her naked body and crusted with blood and fluids he did not want to think about. Gathering her broken body into his arms, he once again teleported the golden eyed girl back to his home.

* * *

Raven closed her eyes and tilted her head towards the suns rays. Though light had already flooded the sky, signalling true morning, she was the only one of the Titans awake. Even Robin, who was notorious for spending every workable hour of a day obsessing over Jump City's criminals, was still sleeping. Allowing the smallest of smiles to tilt the corner of her lips, Raven inhaled deeply, relishing in the fresh, sharp breeze, which blew in from the sea. She allowed herself to fall deeper into the sense of calm she had achieved, filtering out the sounds of the city in the distance, focusing instead on the sound of her own breathing and waves crashing against the shore. So focused was she on her own serenity, that she did not sense X's presence until he grabbed her shoulder.

Eyes flying open, Raven instinctively called black energy to her hands, raising her arms in anticipation of her fight. Instead, she was met with two gloved hands raised in the universal sign of surrender and a white skull mask. Raven was not sure if she was imagining things, but she imagined that the face presented to her looked worried, and drawn – almost as if the material of the suit was reflecting the emotions of the wearer.

As Raven lowered her hands, X lowered his own. Studying the thief, Raven decided that her earlier assessment was correct. His shoulders were slumped, his movements were tired, his usual swagger and bravado were non-existent – he was truly worried about something. About to open her mouth to ask why he was here, at Titans Tower, when he knew she could easily arrest him, she was stopped by his voice.

"I need a favour." The computerised masking device, could not disguise the sense of urgency behind his words.

Raven raised her eyebrows. "What kind of favour?" she asked. Part of her was hesitant to ask what the favour was, but Logic argued that the level of worry in his voice, defied a request for personal gain.

The masked thief straightened, looking down intently into the empath's face. Though his gaze was hidden behind white voids in the mask, Raven knew he was looking straight into her eyes. "I need you to heal someone, she's badly injured. I've done what I can, but it's not going to be enough."

Raven studiously ignored the unfamiliar jolt in her stomach, when X mentioned the girl. Instead she forced her attention on the situation, on why X was coming to her. She wondered briefly how X knew she had the ability, but reasoned that such an adversary was unlikely to be ignorant about his enemies. She was curious to know just how much information he _did_ have on the Titans. "You can't take her to a hospital?" she asked eventually.

X shook his head. "They would ask too many questions. I've watched the Titans enough know that you alone wouldn't ask questions. You know enough about the choices we make in life to know not all secrets can be shared. Your team-mates, the police – they don't understand that. Will you help?"

Raven chewed her lip, running over the consequences in her mind. If Robin found out that she had met X, been face to face with him, had helped him, and then let him go, there would be hell to pay. On the other hand, she could hardly agree to go with X willingly and then turn round and arrest him. Looking up into a mask, which seemed to mirror its owner's pain, Raven made her decision.

"Let's go."

* * *

Raven stumbled slightly as she materialised inside the walls of X's apartment, surprised, but relieved when she felt a firm hand wrap around her upper arm to keep her steady. Suit-teleportation was very different from her own version of it. She nodded her thanks to the thief, glancing around briefly at her surroundings. Everywhere she looked was polished wood, offset by modern décor.

Turning back towards her host, she motioned for him to lead the way. He did so, walking down the hall before disappearing into the first room on the right. Raven followed at a slower pace, taking the time to snatch glimpses of this mysterious man's home. The apartment spoke of money, but not the exorbitant amounts that X made stealing – she idly wondered where the rest of it went. Realising that she was probably taking longer than necessary to move down the hallway, Raven walked swiftly into the room. It was spacious, airy, with light streaming through the gap in the heavy curtains. X was knelt down by the side of the bed, his fingers wrapped around the wrist of the person lying there. Raven guess he was measuring a pulse.

Gliding silently closer to the bed, Raven fought the urge to raise her hood back over her head. Timid was screaming at her to hide her face from strangers; Logic pointed out that the person – _girl_, Raven noted – was quite obviously unconscious and was therefore no threat. The dark witch also noted that the girl was naked. She felt again a jolt in the pit of her stomach, as her mind sought to produce an explanation as to why X would have a naked, bleeding, unconscious girl in what was clearly his bedroom.

Moving so she was standing by the side of the bed, Raven surveyed the damaged. Long, razor thin slashes ran the length of her back in criss-crossing patterns – evidence of a lashing. Burn marks spotted her skin, along with a several severe lacerations and a multitude of minor ones, which, from the slight melting of the skin around them, were made from a heated blade. Raven's gaze travelled on downwards, and she chocked back the gag reflex, when she saw dried blood coating the inside of the girl's thighs – she knew what that signified. Bruises flourished sickeningly on her pale skin – standing out in livid relief – many carrying the almost black tinge that attested to true force.

Raven finished her visual examination to find X looking at her, one hand still holding the wrist of the unconscious girl. Eyes flicking between the thief and his refugee, she nodded once, before dropping her cloak – not noticing the way the thief's eyes instantly drifted to her legs - and settling herself on the edge of the bed, one hand raised with black, glowing energy. Taking a deep breath, Raven centred herself, concentrating all her energy on healing the broken body before her.

* * *

Raven blinked several times, as her mind left its state of deep meditation and her hand ceased to glow with dark energy. Outside, the sun had moved through the sky, past its peak and on towards the horizon. Sighing, Raven pushed herself to her feet, only to stumble when her legs refused to hold her weight. Without warning, a strong arm slid around her waist to keep her upright, drawing her against a warm, hard, and obviously _male_ body.

Muttering her gratitude, Raven turned her head away as a blush spread violently across her cheeks. The tingling sensation that had rushed across her skin at the contact was replaced with a sudden, and aching sense of loss at the arm was removed and the warm presence behind her stepped back. Furious with her own physical reaction, Raven turned her will on Nevermore, in an attempt to throw Lust into the furthest reaches of her mind. Her efforts were thwarted however, when the clearing of a throat, broke through her thoughts.

Turning she saw X standing a few feet from her, hands shoved into pockets Raven had not been aware the xynothium powered suit possessed. Noticing the thief's attention was no longer on her, Raven followed his gaze. The girl's hair was still matted and dirty, and her body was still caked in blood, but her face was peaceful. The fair skin had lost the hollow, sickened look it had held before Raven had arrived, and the dark witch could almost imagine that the young woman was simply sleeping rather than unconscious.

"I thought she would be awake by now." Raven glanced back towards X at the sound of his voice.

"She should wake up soon. I kept her unconscious whilst I was healing her, simply because any pain I caused wouldn't be felt that way. I let her body take over again, once I had finished."

X nodded, frowning beneath the mask at the girl on the bed. _Why did she keep doing this to herself? _Turning back to the young super-hero, he regarded her thoughtfully. His eyes were drawn to long, slender legs, curved hips, trim waist upwards over the rest of her body to her face. Though her body was pleasing, X was transfixed by her eyes. Their rich, purple hue shone like amethysts in the afternoon light. Absorbing the suns rays and reflecting them with a deeper glow. He vaguely wondered what they would look like in candlelight. Her hair, the same colour as her eyes, hung softly around her face, framing features whose delicacy was often lost to the depths of her hood. X did not realise how long her had been staring until the sorceress raised a finely arched eyebrow in enquiry.

Choosing to ignore the unasked question, X braced himself to ask his second favour of the night. "There's something else I need you to do for me – for her, if you're willing." Behind his mask, the thief's eyes darted from amethyst to gold and back again.

Raven's face remained impassive as she regarded the thief. Seconds stretched by in silence, the only sound in the room, the soft, warm breathing of three living beings. "What is it that needs doing?" Raven asked eventually, satisfied from the lack of agitated emotion coming from the thief that his intent was a pure one.

"She has children – well they're not _hers_ exactly, but she looks after them. Clothes, food, roof over their heads – that sort of thing. She's the eldest, the rest are younger – by how much I don't know. Someone needs to go to their house – make sure they're all right – that they have stuff to eat, that everyone got home safe last night. You're a hero – a Teen Titan – they'll trust you more than they would be. Let them know she's okay, that you healed her and she's resting. She should be back with them tonight."

Moving over to one wall, he ran his hands along the plaster until his gloved fingers found a near invisible seam. Following the line down until he felt it begin to turn a corner, he pressed and watched with satisfaction as a previously invisible panel swung open to reveal a metal safe.

Spinning the combination rapidly, X opened the safe and reached inside and pulled out a single white envelope. Closing everything up again, X walked back to where he had left the violet-haired empath. Holding out the envelope, he waited as she finished fixing the clasp of her throat. He snuck one last glance at the long, pale expanse of her legs, before her cloak once again hid them from sight.

"Give them the money, they'll need it. I don't know how they've got it worked down there – I don't even know if she got paid last night." His voice was bland, almost conversational but Raven's eyes shot towards his face.

"Paid? But I thought –" she stopped confused, then realisation dawned, and her face paled. "Oh." Suddenly her own voice seemed too loud for her ears, for the room's subdued quiet. Forcing her eyes from where they had come to rest on the unconscious girl, Raven addressed X.

"How do I get to this place?"

* * *

Raven materialised into existence on the opposite side of the street to the House Red-X had directed her to. Keeping to the shadows, she watched the house for signs of life. The sun had not yet begun its final slip below the horizon, but it was well on its journey. Gnawing unconsciously at her lower lip, Raven contemplated what she would find in the house across the street. Were these children all like her? Selling their bodies for sex, for pain, doing anything and everything, they could to survive. Should she judge them? No. Did she judge them? Yes, and for that she was ashamed. Logic told her that these children had no choice, that there was no shame in trying to stay alive. But at the same time, her mind screamed at her that this was bad, wrong, _unclean_ – Instinct and Logic warred in her head until finally Logic one, banishing Instinct, for the time, to the further reaches of Nevermore.

Raven jumped as a street lamp flickered on overhead. Scolding herself, she straightened her shoulders and walked across the street swiftly. Raising one hand, the mystic teen knocked sharply three times, smothering a wince as her knuckles grated against rough and rotting wood. There was silence. Even with her ear nearly pressed to the doorframe, Raven could not hear a thing. Only her empathic abilities told her that there was life inside. Knocking again, Raven felt the spike of fear that flooded the house. The rush of emotion almost overwhelmed her. Maybe 10 people inside in total. About to knock for a third time, reluctant as she was to simply teleport herself into their home, Raven was stopped by the slow opening of the door.

Metal ground against metal as the iron door, opened barely an inch, and one eye peered out. Upon seeing a Teen Titan standing in the doorway, the hand holding the door jumped back in surprise, momentarily opening the door wider before swinging it back into place – allowing only an inch of space for conversation.

"You're Raven, from the Teen Titans." Raven nodded. "What do you want?" The voice was male, but young – that of a boy not a man. Raven felt a rush of sympathy for the boy – to be trapped in a world such as his at such a young age was not a fate she would wish for anyone.

"I've come to let you know she's okay." Raven hoped that he would understand whom she was talking about, as she did not know the tawny-haired girl's name. X had not mentioned it, and she had not asked. "Things got rough last night and she was hurt – she couldn't make it home. I found her, and healed her. She's resting now. She should be back with you tonight." Strategically, Raven left out X's name. Better not to reveal that she was in contact with one of Jump's most elusive criminals.

"She's okay?" Relief was evident in the boy's voice and the young hero imagined that his face reflected what he felt. "That's great." He seemed to hesitate for a moment before he opened the door wider and stepped back. "You'd better come in."

Raven accepted the invitation with a quick nod of her head and an almost smile. As soon as her cloak had fluttered through the door, the wood and metal entryways were hastily shut and a series of locks and chains thrown quickly into place. The soft patter of tiny feet on the bare wood flooring interrupted the security measures however. Turning, Raven saw a little girl standing in a doorway. Soft, sun-kissed brown hair – which would no doubt turn darker with age – tumbled over her shoulders and around her face as she scrubbed a hand against sleepy, lavender coloured eyes. Yawning, the child tucked her feet underneath the hem of her faded pink nightgown. The girl could be no more than three.

The boy, who had opened the door, also noticed their visitor. With a snort of exasperation, he moved swiftly past Raven to scoop the little girl up into his arms, murmuring softly into her – too quietly for Raven to hear. The child nodded once before twisting in his arms to gaze solemnly at the hero. Speaking to the child once more, the boy put her down and watched silently as she looked once more at Raven before scampering away up the stairs. There was a heartbeat's silence before the sound of a door opening and shutting was heard.

Indicating that she should follow him, the boy led Raven into the kitchen, settling himself into the corner so he could watch all areas of the room at once. Raven felt something inside her crumble ever so slightly. Not even Robin, for all his paranoia did that when he walked into a room – even if it was with a stranger. She realised then, that the people living in this house were no longer children in the true sense of the word – they were adults trapped in children's body; jaded beyond their years and with no hope for the future.

She was brought from her thoughts when the boy spoke again. "How badly was she hurt? Why couldn't she heal herself?"

The question startled Raven, and she was forced to contemplate her answer before making a reply. The boy's question confirmed something she had suspected since healing the girl. The girl lying in the bed was the reason X had wanted to know about psychic healers – she was a healer, the kind spoken of in fairy tales and legends. The question as to why she had not healed herself still puzzled the empath. Her body should have healed itself unless she had deliberately prevented the process, and since she was unconscious, that seemed almost impossible.

"It is possible that she went into mental shock before she could begin to heal herself. If she deliberately prevented her body from healing at first, then even when she passed out, her body would have lack the resources it needed to heal itself. Her mind would have been protecting itself. Her injuries were severe." She added, as an after thought.

The boy nodded, as though this information was not entirely unexpected. He looked about to say something, but he changed his mind. "Is that everything?"

Raven knew a dismissal when she heard it. Reaching into her cloak, she removed the envelope and held it out to the body. Cautiously he took it, his eyes going wide when he saw what was inside. Catching a glimpse of the inside of the envelope Raven, herself, was surprised. There had to be close to $1000 in the envelope. As the boy looked about to protest Raven held up her hand.

"Its not from me. Keep it." Her tone brooked no argument; dumbly the boy nodded.

Nodding once in reply Raven gazed one last time around the room, and melted away into the floor.

Once she was gone, the boy in the kitchen bent over coughing violently. His struggle not to cough in front of the gothic hero had done him no favours. Bracing himself against the wall, the boy struggled to stay upright as he fought to get oxygen into his lungs. Eventually, his breathing returned to normal and he straightened, grimacing at the flecks of blood that now dotted the clean tiled floor. Suppressing another cough, the boy set to work cleaning the kitchen. Glancing up at clock, he wondered where the hell Alex was.

* * *

**Thank you to all those who have read and reviewed. The next chapter might take a little while to complete because my work load in astromonomical at the moment but hopefully it won't take too long to complete. As always reviews (even criticisms) are welcome.**


	5. Chapter 5: Interlude

**Chapter 5**

X scowled as he watched the gentle rise and fall of the sheets that indicated the current occupant of his bed was still alive. The sun was just beginning to slip over the horizon, staining the bedroom with red-orange light. The dying light, turned the girls tawny hair to golden flames, and even caked in blood her hair still seemed to glow. A small frown marred her features, as though even after Raven's healing her body still remembered the pain it had endured.

Her eye moved rapidly behind their lids, and X knew she was close to waking. Leaning forward, he moved to shake her gently by the shoulder, only to have his wrist seized and twisted before he could make contact. Golden eyes opened, widening as the girl saw whom she held captive. Immediately, she let go, mouth opening to form an apology that rapidly dissolved into a cough. Wordlessly, the thief handed the golden-eyed girl the glass of water that had been placed by the bedside. A weak smile was the only thanks he received, before the girl reached for the glass with trembling fingers and took a hesitant sip of water. The moment the first drop touched her lips she gulped the water down, making X kick himself for not having thought too add electrolytes to the water, to counteract the possibility of dehydration, before hand. The second smile the thief was gifted with was more confidence then the first, and was accompanied with such a look of gratitude that X felt vaguely uncomfortable. This was the second time he had rescued this girl. He was beginning to think he was becoming as bad as the boy blunder.

"Thank you." Her recent bout of coughing was evident in her voice – a dry, rasp than permeated the softer tones.

"Your welcome." The words seemed to beckon in a heady silence, one filled only with breathing and the on-set of embarrassment. X groped around in the recesses of his mind for something to say.

"I suppose you want a shower." He said at last. His words were once again greeted with silence, forcing the thief to look at his guest. She was frowning at him, though the gesture was more one of confusion than anger. Eventually she nodded, her expression clearly telling X he was to leave the room.

Standing, the thief made his way to the door on silent feet. Pausing, with one hand on the wood, he spoke. "Bathroom's next door down – clothes are on top of the hamper. I'll be in the kitchen if you want to talk."

* * *

Cloistered in the darkness of her room, Raven breathed deeply in silent meditation. In Nevermore, Guilt raged a battle against Anger, the two emotions each warring for dominance and validation. Her return to the Tower had been greeted with a barrage of questions as to her whereabouts. Most has been deflected with a glare and a demand for privacy but Robin had caught her gaze and she had not been able to prevent the guilt that had flashed across her face. He had immediately launched an inquisition, all concern for her whereabouts disappearing under the knowledge of her guilt. His attack, though he would not see it as such, had left her flustered, and angry – fighting a mixture of shame and uncharacteristic pleasure at the thought of having provoked their stoic leader to anger.

She knew that part of her refusal to tell Robin of her whereabouts was due to more than a feeling of having betrayed the team's trust. In her heart she knew her silence was from an attempt to protect X – despite her attempts to convince herself it was to protect the nameless girl.

A knock on the door, jarred Raven from her thoughts, and left her with no time to suppress the emotions that had run rampant in Nevermore.

Annoyance permeating her features, the young mystic unfolded herself from her floating lotus position and marched softly to the door. The aura of shining happiness radiating from the other side of the closed metal barrier announced the identity of the visitor louder than words.

As the door slid open, Raven raised one eyebrow in mute question.

"Friend Raven, may I speak with you?" Starfire's arms were wrapped tightly around her body, her eyes brimming with a mixture of concern and fear of incurring Raven's wrath for the interruption.

At Raven's nod, the Tameranian princess floated gingerly into the room, hovering nervously just inside the door.

"Is there something I can help you with Starfire?" Raven asked sharply. Though she would normally have had more compassion for the other girl's obvious agitation, the combination of the healing and fending off Robin's questions had left her drained and irritable.

"I wanted to talk to you, Friend Raven, about the Red X?" Though obviously nervous about broaching the topic, Starfire's mouth was set in a stubborn line and her chin was raised in defiance of speaking of something so taboo. Even so, the emerald-eyed heroine did not fail to notice the tension that sprung to life in her companion or the flush of embarrassment or even shame that was quickly suppressed. She continued without waiting for Raven to comment.

"You were with him today, yes?" This time, Raven's agitation was undeniable.

"How - how did you –" the young witch trailed, off unable to comprehend this sudden clairvoyance in her friend.

"I saw him speak to you, on the roof, this morning." Starfire explained haltingly. "I had expected you to call for Friend Robin, for all of us, but you did not. Instead, you left with him." The hurt and accusation were clearly evident in Starfire's words and Raven felt an invisible hand clutch at her heart. Though she had initially disliked the exuberant girl who stood before her, time had endeared each to the other and Raven was not prepared to deal with the rift that now had the potential to draw between them.

Sighing she settled herself, cross-legged onto the floor and waited as Starfire floated down beside her. "He needed my help." She explained quietly. "A," she paused contemplating her choice of words, "_friend_ of his was hurt. I healed her."

Starfire nodded solemnly when Raven finished speaking. "So there is nothing between you and the Red X?" she asked lightly. Raven hesitated and Starfire smiled softly. "I may not be familiar with the courting rituals of Earth, but it is my understanding that a villain such as the Red X would not take such a risk unless he were sure you would not act against him."

For a moment Raven said nothing, her hands smoothing restlessly over her cloak. "He was desperate." She said at last, though her tone belied the confidence of her words.

"Perhaps." Starfire conceded. Glancing up, Raven could clearly see the unspoken message in her friend's eyes.

"I'm a hero Starfire." She reminded the other girl gently. Green eyes regarded her with compassion.

"To quote a well known Earth saying: falling in love is not a crime."

* * *

Shadows splashed across walls and swallowed alley-ways, darkening tawny coloured hair to pale brown. Sighing, the girl who sold herself for a living, trudged through the bad-land's streets. Groups of teenagers were starting to huddle on street corners, whilst older men cruised in vehicles and older women bent to talk to them. Avoiding eye contact, and huddling deep into a borrowed coat she wound her way past darkened doorways and boarded up windows.

A hacking cough drew her attention to a shivering mass of rags and cardboard sheltered in an alleyway. She stopped long enough to watch a haggard old man roll over and expirate a mixture of blood and mucus onto the concrete before hurrying on her way.

At the back of her mind, a darkness – _itched_ was the best word she could find to describe it. Unconsciously increasing her pace, she half-trotted until she arrived outside her door. Digging in her pocket she extracted the key she had retrieved from the warehouse earlier. The mere sight of the place had made her feel sick but she had been left without choice.

Slipping inside, she took a moment to rest her back against the door before straightening and heading to the kitchen. The sounds of muffled voices and clinking china indicated that the house's residents occupied the room.

Entering the kitchen, she had a moment to comprehend the looks of relief on the surrounding faces before a soft impact, swiftly followed by several more, diverted her attention to the group of children now hugging her. Pulling back, she scanned the room, taking stock of those present. Only one face was noticeably absent.

"Where's Alex?" she asked, worriedly. The tension in the room spiked, and the grim atmosphere she had initially attributed to her absence seemed to weigh even heavier in the air.

"They found his body a few blocks away, over past The Chains." Henry whispered, voice clogged with grief. "Jen brought us the news. She said – she said he'd been dead a couple of days."

"His last job?"

"We don't know." Henry admitted, tears sparking in his eyes. Disentangling herself from the hoard of children, the young healer who acted as a mother to so many, embraced the young boy before her, and let him cry.

* * *

Robin turned up the volume slightly as he listened to an immaculately dressed woman present the evening news.

"In a shock announcement earlier today, the Governor has announced that he is planning on pulling funding for an experimental bioresearch project being undertaken by Virotech Pharmaceuticals. Earlier in the year, the Governor gave the project his full support but says now that the programme has failed to yield the necessary results and that the money allotted to the project is needed elsewhere. Lead scientists at the company say that the Governor's expectations of the programme are unrealistic but that has not stopped the administration from terminating the research."

"Robin?" The Batman's ex-protégé turned his head to see the team's resident mechanic standing behind the large sofa that dominated the Tower's common room.

"Oh, hey Cyborg. What's up?" He resettled himself on the couch as his teammate sat down beside him.

"It's probably nothing," Cyborg told him, "But the Tower's biosensors have picked up a minor fluctuation in the harbour ecosystems, especially down by the old docks."

"The bad-lands?"

"Right. Now at the moment the changes aren't a clear sign of anything, but they get any worse, it could be a sign that someone's tampering with things down there."

Robin frowned as he processed the information. He knew what Cyborg was reluctant to say, and it plagued him that his team still felt they could not comfortably broach the topic of the thief with him – 'the one that got away'. "Red X has been by the docks." Robin stated. "He may up to something. We'll keep an eye out, but until then keep the sensors trained on the bad-lands, I want to know if something happens down there."

* * *

Henry clutched at the porcelain rim of the toilet bowl with hands that shook. Knuckles white, he wretched violently, fighting to draw air into his lungs as he heaved. He groaned in pain as the action caused a burning sensation to sear through his lungs.

The bathroom door opened, and the soft patter of feet, followed by the clumsy hand of a toddler patting his back notified him as to the identity of his visitor.

"Go back to bed," he croaked to his guest, "and don't tell your mamma ok?" A brutal cough tore through his throat once again; he barely registered the child's solemn nod and her exit from the bathroom. When he looked up, blood decorated the porcelain in a scarlet spray.

* * *

Making sure to stay in the shadows, X wandered the roofs of the badlands, surveying everything in sight. He wasn't sure if it was time altering his perception or reality but the place seemed bleaker and more worn than it had on his previous visits. It was though the area was gradually losing energy – its inhabitants seemed to be losing the will to live. Every alley he leapt over seemed to house an invalid – each one fighting to draw breath, the air whistling in and our of damaged lungs like wind through hollow reeds.

Though the desperate and the needy still roamed the streets, scraping survival from whatever means they could find, their numbers seemed depleted. He wondered if his mind was playing tricks. Was he developing a hero complex, looking for a problem so he would have someone to save?

He shrugged the thought aside, even as he acknowledged it. He wasn't a hero, he was a pragmatist. His concern lay only with the golden-eyed girl. Raven had risked so much to help him save her, the least he could do was insure her welfare.

X's mind drifted once again the sorceress, and this time he didn't fight it. She fascinated him – of all the Titans she was the one he could not understand. It was not that he failed to comprehend her reasons for fighting, or why she retained such a tight control on her emotions. Rather it was because, he could not grasp _why_ of all the Titans she was the only one he _knew_ would never betray him to Robin.

Perching on the side of a rooftop, X let one leg dangle over the edge. Raven was loyal to the Titans - he knew that. But at the same time, he believed her loyal to him – or at least, honourable enough not to betray his location. But why? He had done nothing to earn her trust, had certainly not asked for it. And for all it could be a useful tool – he would not abuse it.

That thought annoyed him. It was unlike him not to use every weapon at his disposal, and the trust of a Titan could easily be considered such, but he knew he could never use the gothic hero in such a manner. He wanted to attribute his behaviour to lust. But he couldn't, not this time around. Confused and frustrated, X teleported away.

* * *

As the moon slid from behind the cover of cloud, only eyes the colour of liquid gold were open to see it. Idly, their owner gently ran her hand over the soft brown curls of the beds other occupant. Wrapping her arms more securely around the child, who looked so much like her father, she hummed a soft lullaby beneath her breath. Frowning, she noticed a small bruise on the child's arm – probably sustained when playing. Raising a hand she touched one gold glowing finger to the bruise watching as it shrank and faded. Placing a soft kiss to the child's curls, the young mother drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**A/N:** Apologies for the long update and for any spelling/grammatical errors that may have occurred. As of October I will no longer be able to write (or at least I will only be able to write during the holidays) and so I will try to finish this fic before then. As always **thank you for reading and any reviews or criticisms would be appreciated.**


	6. Chapter 6: Violent Light

**Chapter 6**

Dusk gave way to dawn, which in turn, gave way to dusk again. In her room in Titan's Tower, Raven dreamed.

_Dawn broke in a red wash of light across the city. All around her, she could hear the screams and cries of the dying. The city stood – unmoved and unchanged – but it's inhabitants writhed in a sea of panic. As she moved through the streets of Jump City, Raven saw hoards of people lying dead in the streets whilst others trampled them in a desperate attempt to escape._

_A solid weight rammed into Raven's knee, causing her to stumble. Looking down, she saw the little girl she'd met only a few days ago, except now, the chocolate curls were matted with blood and her skin was sallow. She clung to Raven, crying, but as the young Titan bent closer she was horrified to see that drops of blood, not tears, oozed from the child's eyes. With a pained shriek, the girl doubled over and vomited onto the street. Raven recognised the mess at once: the putrefied mass of a decaying organ. She caught the child as she fell, only to feel tears on her own cheeks as she realised the girl was dead._

_Standing up, still cradling the dead toddler, Raven fervently wished herself out of the dream and far, far away._

"This is no dream, my daughter. This is something that you must remember."

_The voice of Ariella wafted towards Raven's ears. Elated and confused, she turned towards the sound. There translucent but still very much discernible stood Raven's mother. Raven's mind battled with what her eyes and ears were telling her. Ariella was dead – destroyed along with Azarath when Trigon returned to Earth._

_Ariella frowned slightly at her daughter's narrow-mindedness. _"You of all people should know that death is by no means an ending."

_Chastised, Raven nodded. So this was a vision? The spirit of her mother nodded and gestured with one, elegant hand. The city around them dissolved away and they were left floating above the surface of the sea. Raven tightened her grip on the child in her arms – not wanting her to fall into the polluted deeps._

_Even as she thought it though, she realised something was wrong. It was true that all coastal waters in this day and age carried human contaminant, but this was worse than usual. A sickly yellow thread, wound its way through the waters. Frowning she followed it with her eyes, horror sinking into her heart, as she watched the thread weave it's way into the pipe that carried part of the city's used water supply into the ocean._

_Startled, she turned back to the image of her mother. Ariella merely nodded sadly and tenderly reached across to the child in Raven's arms and brushed a lock of hair away from her face._

"The paving stones for this disaster have already been placed. You will need to distinguish enemies from allies in these coming days, and the lines will not always be clear. But hurry, my daughter, the days grow short."

_With those final words, the vision faded._

* * *

Raven awoke with a start, her sense quickly tuning in to the sounds of the Tower. Hearing nothing in the immediate vicinity, she let her power wash over the place she called home.

Beast Boy lay on his bed in dog-form, paws twitching in the air as he dreamt. Cyborg's machinery whirred quietly as it charged, though the noise was not enough to wake Starfire, who slept next door. In the main room however, Robin was wide-awake.

Curious, Raven pulled on her cloak and sank silently into the floor, materialising behind Robin noiselessly. Thin bars of moonlight illuminated his figure, and though Raven's made barely a sound as she stood there, he was aware of her presence.

"I couldn't sleep." He said, turning slightly to look over his shoulder at his friend. The dark witch nodded and floated silently over to the window where he stood. As with the last time she and Robin has stood gazing out over Jump City, Raven could feel Chaos blooming in her mind. The roil of an insecure future was much nearer than she had last sensed, and Raven cursed herself for allowing her involvement with X to distract her from what she should have sensed. Her mother should not have had to relinquish her eternal peace in order to force Raven to acknowledge what she should have already foreseen.

"Something bad will happen." She said, as they gazed across the water to the lights of the city. "Something that will threaten the people of Jump and throw the city into panic. I saw death and suffering, but no physical destruction."

"A pathogen then."

"Quite possibly."

Robin looked at her. "What else could it be?"

Raven said nothing. It was possible that dark magic had caused what she had seen, but human nature could just as equally be at fault. Besides, Robin would want to know where she had learnt of the spells that could cause such an outcome and she did not wish to share that secret with him.

Suddenly, darkness exploded at the edge of Raven's senses. The girl staggered, caught of guard by the seriousness and brevity of the power flux. Gasping, she clutched at her chest, trying to remember the last time she had felt a power so … _wrong._ What she had just felt defied all laws of nature – was this the source of the Chaos she had felt growing in the city? Was this what her mother sought to warn her against?

As Robin laid his hand on her shoulder, as his concerned face entered her field of vision, Raven felt another surge of _wrongness_, and blacked out.

* * *

"You would _dare_ to threaten my child." The words were hissed like venom, between clenched teeth, as an elegant, female hand closed around a male throat. With a yell, the man was sent stumbling backward toward his three friends. One, fear permeating the fog of alcohol in his brain tried to run, only to be stopped short as his legs gave way beneath him, the muscles atrophying even as he tried to crawl away. He watched helpless, as with a scream the young woman who had cornered them flung her arm skyward, and at once his friend's bodies spilt apart, blood and entrails littering the ground in a macabre parody of rain.

Whimpering, the remaining man, a drunken john who had made the mistake of taunting a group of passing children, earlier in the day, trembled as he now faced a mother's wrath. Golden eyes blazed like a dying sun, fury and malice warring for dominance in their depths.

Unable as he was to propel himself from the deserted street, he held his breath as the soft clicking of heals against concrete signalled the woman's approach. Slowly she knelt beside him, rolling him onto his back and straddling his waist. Despite the terror of the situation, the man felt his body respond as a creamy expanse of female flesh entered his vision. His eyes widened in disbelief as with a sultry smile, the girl lowered her face towards his, one hand snaking down between their bodies. At his gasp, the smile quickly changed to a sneer and two pale pink lips crashed down to his.

The moment they touched, the drunken man could feel a change in his body. He felt weak, and old. He could feel his skin beginning to whither and dry. Then just as suddenly as it began, it ended and he opened his just in time to see a pearly white mist trickle from between her lips and into his.

The young woman seem to regard him thoughtfully for a moment before a malicious smile carved her lips. Sobbing, the man clawed feebly at the hand that wrapped around his throat.

The girl's hair floated in an unfelt breeze, surrounded in a soft gold light than turned hard and crisp as it mirrored her anger. From the corners of his vision he could see the littered bodies of his friends, their lives ripped from then one by one in the initial surge of this woman's wrath. Now, with a malevolent smirk, the golden-eye one switched her hold and made him watch as his limbs began to whither and die before his very eyes. Searing, white-hot pain scorched through him as his blood began to boil, bursting from his lips in a steaming wave. His wretched and watched horrified as a part of a putrefied lung slithered betwixt his lips and fell with a soft plop to the concrete below.

He howled again in agony, only to be cut off as a hand crushed his windpipe. The pain continued on and on. Never weakening, never stopping. Until his mind began to lose all sense of anything else. As his vision began to waver and grey, the last thing he saw, before the darkness of death claimed him, was two merciless golden eyes, staring into his own.

* * *

Raven opened her eyes to thin, morning light and the concerned face of Beast Boy peering down at her. With a stifled groan she levered herself upright, only to be carefully laid back again by Beast Boy.

"Don't get up just yet," the changeling instructed. "You've been out for a while." Beast Boy's normal, joking manner was entirely absent and deep worry lines were carved around his mouth and between his eyes. She opened her mouth to question him as to the source of his worry when he grabbed her hand and held it to him.

"You stopped _breathing_ Rae."

Raven was touched to see tears in her team-mate's eyes. She didn't need to be an empath to discern the distress BB was trying to hide. She offered her friend a rare, comforting smile. "I'm fine Beast Boy."

The boy nodded and collapsed down next to her, falling onto a stool positioned by her bedside. Now free to look around, Raven saw she was in the infirmary, its stark white walls made ever plainer in the cold light of dawn.

"Where are the others?" she asked eventually, when it became obvious that BB was too relieved to be very forthcoming with information.

"Oh? Right," the green skinned youth chuckled. "They're out scouring the city. Cyborg's bio sensors have noted an increase in the ecological fluctuations that have been occurring lately and Robin thought it might be linked to your collapse."

Raven stared, wide-eyed at her companion. She had harboured the suspicion that Beast Boy was nowhere near as foolish as he pretended to be and she knew that much of his silliness came from the fact that he was in fact much younger than the other Titans. His ability to recite the necessary information that accurately, simply confirmed her suspicions.

Correctly interpreting her stare, Beast Boy ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. "Don't tell Robin." He begged. "He'll have me doing hours of paperwork if he thinks I'm smart enough not to screw it up."

Raven's eyes crinkled in a small smile and Beast Boy glowed with the knowledge that he'd been the one to elicit such a response. With instructions to rest and to call for him if she needed anything, the changeling left to inform Robin of Raven's revival.

Closing her eyes, Raven sank deep into her meditation. She could still feel the pulse of the City, could hear it the minor faltering which signaled Chaos was growing. Ignoring it all, she scoured the metaphysical darkness for the pin-prick of light she had sensed initially. If it was lost, than it was possible Ariella had come to her too late. If not, there was still hope. Frantically she searched for the elusive light, almost giving up, when a tiny gleam – smaller than it had been caught her eye. The light grew and shrank, a clear sign that in the coming days, its ability to withstand the darkness would be decided by what surrounded it. Raven knew she must find the source of the light and ensure its safety before all else.

With that settled, the sorceress turned to attention to Nevermore. Before she had passed out, her mind had tasted a familiarity in the power surge. Somehow, she had encountered something or someone that remaindered her of that power. She hoped that Knowledge would have the answer. Letting her mind wander she rolled the taste of the power across her tongue, savouring it like a fine wine, trying to tempt the recollection from the depths of her memory.

In the deeper realms of Nevermore, Rage purred in contentment, the demon in her, basking in the rays of such power. She batted at the memory of the power like a kitten with a ball of string, pawing at it, playing with it, wrapping herself in its depths.

Frowning, Raven made to leave Nevermore, disgusted at her demonic heritage's lust for power, when Timid cautiously crept towards the bars of Rage's cage. The memory of the power had personified in Nevermore, blanketing Rage in a soft grey mist. Raven watched, bewildered as Timid reached a hand between the bars and gathered the power towards her, the worry lines that permanently marred her face, easing as she did so.

The other emotions stopped what they were doing and turned stare. Even lazy, blinked herself awake and stared in sleepy bemusement at the scene before. Rage rolled, languidly towards the edge of the cage, one arm snaking out to ensnare Timid. Yet, even as Raven and Courage leapt forward to defend the gentle emotion, Timid herself reached out and entwined her fingers with Rage's.

The pair looked at each other for a heartbeat before turning to the others. Six pairs of eyes, four vermilion, two amethyst, regarded Raven and her emotions calmly. In unison, they spoke.

"Not all violence is born from violent hearts." Raven had only a moment to blink before Rage extended her free hand, and in an act of will, expelled her Mistress from Nevermore.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm worried that this story is losing pace slightly and that I'm dragging it out too long. Please review and let me know what you think. Thank you for reading.


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